


Pudding-Brain Christmas Tradition

by Ladyhazle



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Kiss, F/M, Fix-It, Post-Library, TARDIS - Freeform, Traditions, pudding brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhazle/pseuds/Ladyhazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's dream becomes reality, and he only has to put up with one silly human tradition. Merry Christmas, Doctor. Warning: Pure fluff! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pudding-Brain Christmas Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or it's characters.

**Pudding-Brain Christmas Tradition**

A 12th Doctor and River Song Christmas one-shot.

 

 

_The bright, sparkling glow of regeneration energy that swirled around her amazing curls was both glorious, and terrifying. The Doctor lay helpless on the stairs beneath young Melody, as she gave her lives to him. In Time Lord terms, it was the ultimate sacrifice. He could not have done anything to stop her. He'd asked her what she was doing. Her answer was the kiss that restored him. Gently pressing life back into him, and drawing it painfully from herself._

 

The Doctor woke with a start. He had been sleeping with the side of his weathered face in his hand, his elbow propped on the arm of his red leather winged-back chair.

 

The old Time Lord took a deep breath, trying to shake off the cat nap. He'd had the same dream many times before. There was something more lasting about it this time, however. The Doctor touched his thin lips. This was not the mouth that had been kissed by River Song more times than he could count, and yet...

 

The Doctor looked down at his fingertips. His eyebrows rose with alarm. Red lipstick. It was there, plain as day, on the pads of his fingers. He jumped up from his chair, nearly knocking the antique over. He gripped the railing and looked down at the TARDIS console. The glow from the time rotor made the top of River Song's dress sparkle brightly.

 

“You!”

 

“Merry Christmas, to you too, Sweetie.”

 

“Are you,” he started.

 

“Real,” River finished for him, “there's only one way to find out.”

 

The Doctor nodded absently and started down the stairs. He couldn't take his eyes off of River. She was just as he remembered her; timeless, frightening and beautiful.

 

“You kissed me.” He didn't exactly mean for it to sound like an accusation.

 

The corners of River's ruby lips lifted in a sly grin.

 

“Yes, I did,” she answered, “And I intend to do it again.” She absolutely meant for it to sound like a threat. The Doctor skipped a step. He grasped the railing hard to keep from falling the rest of the way down the cold metal staircase.

 

She raised her eyebrows at him and put her hands on her hips. River watched his face as he contemplated staying right where he was at.

 

“Coward,” she said, daring him. The Doctor responded with a raised eyebrow over a sly smile. He stepped off the last step and slowly walked toward his wife. River came forward to meet him. He suddenly held up his hand between them, halting her advance. The Doctor's long finger pointed upward.

 

“What sentimental idiot hung that up there,” he asked, never taking his eyes off of River. A smile played on her lips. She didn't need to look up, either, she knew exactly what stood between her and the Doctor.

 

River shrugged. “I have no idea.”

 

The Doctor finally lifted his chin to look up at the mistletoe suspended in the air between them.

 

“Silly, pudding-brain human tradition,” he muttered.

 

“And what am I,” River asked with a smile, drawing the Doctor's eyes back down to her own.

 

“Not, a pudding-brain,” he replied.

 

River's smile was brilliant.

 

“Perhaps the TARDIS saw me coming?”

 

“From where,” the Doctor asked, “And don't you dare say _it_.”

 

“I don't think “ _spoilers_ ” have a place between us anymore, my love,” River admitted.

 

The Doctor's sudden intake of breath was sharp with his shock. Could it be, he wondered. Could she possibly be post-Library?

 

“You are real,” he whispered, mostly to himself, suddenly recognizing the difference between how her ghost had occupied space, and how her physical one was doing so, now.

 

“How do you know, you haven't even touched me yet,” River said. She barely had the sentence out before the Doctor stepped into her space, gathering up her hands in his own as he did so.

 

“How is it even possible?”

 

As usual, River did not give him the answer he wanted. She looked up at the mistletoe, now right over their heads.

 

“Oh look, now you have to fulfill that, silly human tradition,” she dared him.

 

The Doctor shook his head. “This is important, River.”

 

“No, _this_ is important, my love,” River argued, “I swear, Doctor, if you don't kiss me first, I'm going to-”

 

The Doctor suddenly took River's face in his hand. The warmth of their touching skin sent shivers down both of their spines.

 

“ _Shush_ ,” he whispered, “I'm working up to it.”

 

“Work, faster,” River whispered back.

 

The Time Lord shook his head. “Slow and steady this time around, Professor.”

 

“Mmm, the mind boggles, Doctor...”

 

“Shut up,” he replied, his gruff voice barely audible as he leaned down to touch his lips to River's. All of the Doctor's memories of these moments came flooding back to him. Kissing River Song was on par with any of the best adventures he'd ever had. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his thin waist as he gently held her face between his two strong hands. Her wonderful, lush lips, moving against his own, made his two hearts race just as fast as when he took his companion by the hand and ran from the latest danger.

 

The one thing River did even better than adventure ever could, was to make him tingle from head to toe. The Doctor drew a long, steady breath through his nose and pulled back just enough to look down into River's glassy eyes. Her contentment in that moment was his greatest joy.

 

“Will you tell me,” he asked simply.

 

River reached up and laced her fingers through the curls at the base of his skull.

 

“Later, my love... Much, much later,” she promised.

 

“Merry Christmas, Professor.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

 

Slight pressure on the back of his head, brought the Doctor back to her, and, as promised, slowly and steadily, the mistletoe above their heads, was well used.

 

**The End.**


End file.
